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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175024">Lepidopteran love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailendolin/pseuds/Ailendolin'>Ailendolin</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlypotato/pseuds/friendlypotato'>friendlypotato</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Android Will, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meddling Leslie, Pining, butterfly kisses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:07:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailendolin/pseuds/Ailendolin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlypotato/pseuds/friendlypotato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Blakefield Kisstober 2020: Day 24 - Butterfly Kisses.</b>
</p>
<p>When his mother tells Tom to buy a farm bot, Tom brings home a military Schofield-1917 model instead. </p>
<p>This is how he falls in love with Will.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joseph Blake/Lieutenant Leslie, Tom Blake/William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Blakefield Kisstober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lepidopteran love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a collaboration between me (<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailendolin">Ailendolin</a>) and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlypotato">friendlypotato</a> for the Blakefield Kisstober prompt "Butterfly kisses". I wrote the story, and friendlypotato did the amazing artwork &lt;3</p>
<p>tw: there's some swearing in the fic but other than that it's mostly fluff. </p>
<p>Disclaimer: We do not own 1917 or the characters and make no money with this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Lepidoptera love</strong>
</p>
<p>When his mother told Tom to go to the market and buy a farm bot, she gave him very strict instructions.</p>
<p>“Make sure it is sturdy. I don’t want it to keel over while plowing the fields or picking the cherries. And check its battery. Miller’s Mary said hers needs to be recharged every three hours and that’s not going to work for us. It needs to be able to run for at least eight hours, preferably longer. If Victor tries to sell you anything with less power, tell him to screw himself and we’ll look elsewhere.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Mum,” Tom said.</p>
<p>“Good lad.” She handed him a wad of cash. “That’s all we can spare, so don’t go looking at the fancy new models. Take an older one. I don’t care if it’s already been in use as long as it runs properly.”</p>
<p>At the market, Tom quickly realized that the money in his pocket would not nearly be enough for the kind of bot his mother was looking for. Most farm bots Victor sold were either too expensive, didn’t meet her criteria or were so old they looked like a gust of wind could knock them down. If Tom came home with one of those, his mother would kill him.</p>
<p>Then again, if he came home <em>without</em> a bot, she’d kill him too, so Tom kept wandering around the field the market was held at, keeping his eyes open for other bots that maybe could be repurposed for farm work. He started looking for sellers who weren’t specializing in a certain type of bot but had no luck. One of them had mostly pleasure bots and office bots for sale – neither suitable for farm work. Another’s bots were so old and rusty they fell apart at the hinges and creaked annoyingly with every move they made. The third guy he talked to only had bots that were way out of his prize range.</p>
<p>Tom was about to cut his losses and make his way home with empty hands when a commotion at the edge of the field caught his eye. </p>
<p>“Oi, what are you doing out here?” he heard a man growl. The guy was towering over someone sitting against a tree and, thinking a fight was about to happen, Tom stepped closer to intervene. It was only when the man added, “You’re supposed to be in the tent with the other bots,” that Tom realized he wasn’t watching two people argue, but a seller reigning in his straying bot.</p>
<p>He stopped, reassessing the situation. The bot – a model Tom wasn’t familiar with – slowly looked up at its owner. “But it’s dark in there,” it said.</p>
<p>“It’s – what the hell are you talking about?” the seller sputtered.</p>
<p>“The tent,” the bot said. “It’s dark in there. I wanted to see the sun.”</p>
<p>Something in Tom’s chest tightened when he heard those words. He knew it was a bot, he knew they didn’t have feelings (not the common models, at least, the ones ordinary folk like him and his family could afford) but something about this one was obviously different. Unlike the other bots Tom had seen all day, its eyes weren’t dull. They were alight with a spark of <em>something</em>, almost as if they were alive, and Tom couldn’t help but feel drawn by them.</p>
<p>He stepped closer.</p>
<p>“God, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he heard the seller mutter.</p>
<p>The bot looked up at him. “Do I have to go back now?” it asked quietly.</p>
<p>“Do you – ” The seller shook his head in exasperation. “<em>Of course</em> you have to go back!” he shouted. “This is a small town. No one here’s going to buy something like <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>The bot hung its head and Tom made a split-second decision he knew he was probably going to regret later.</p>
<p>“Uh, excuse me?” he asked. The seller whirled around to face him. “Hi,” Tom smiled as charmingly as he could. “My name’s Blake. I was wondering what kind of model that is.”</p>
<p>The seller frowned and pointed at the bot behind him as if he couldn’t quite believe Tom was asking about it. “This one?”</p>
<p>Tom nodded.</p>
<p>“That’s a Schofield-1917 military bot.” The seller paused and looked Tom up and down. “Not what you’re looking for, lad.”</p>
<p>Tom gave him an unimpressed look. “Is it good at hard labor?”</p>
<p>The seller studied the bot for a moment. “I suppose so,” he said reluctantly.</p>
<p>“Think it could work a farm?”</p>
<p>“It could guard a farm alright,” the seller muttered. “It was trained to kill, you know,” he added pointedly.</p>
<p>To both their surprise, the bot suddenly spoke up. “I avoided it as much as I could.”</p>
<p>“What?” Tom asked, taken aback. “Why?”</p>
<p>The bot’s eyes turned to him and Tom was struck by how blue they were – and how <em>human</em> they looked up close. “Because it’s not right.”</p>
<p>The words echoed in Tom’s head, resonating with something deep within him. He had no idea why the bot was like this, didn’t know whether its programming was faulty or it had somehow managed to evolve beyond it, but he knew he couldn’t leave it here, not in the hands of this man who obviously didn’t realize how unique his bot was.</p>
<p>He turned to the seller. “How much?”</p>
<p>“How much you got?”</p>
<p>In the end, Tom gave him everything he had.</p>
<p>“Pleasure making business with you,” the seller grinned as he transferred his ownership rights over to Tom. “Have fun with this one. And don’t come running to me if it turns out to be a bad deal.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure it won’t,” Tom told him with a forced smile.</p>
<p>He watched the guy saunter off, obviously happy about finally being rid of this bot, and turned towards his farm help to be. The bot was looking up at him with something Tom could only describe as mild curiosity.</p>
<p>Tom held out his hand to it. “Well, let’s go.”</p>
<p>The bot studied his face for a moment before it took his hand.</p><hr/>
<p>“Where we’re going – is it nice there?” the bot asked when they’re halfway back to the farm.</p>
<p>Tom glanced over at it. “Nice? As in …?”</p>
<p>“Peaceful,” the bot said. “You talked about a farm when you bought me. Are there fields there, or trees perhaps? Kind people?”</p>
<p>The way it said that made Tom wonder how often it had been treated badly in the past.</p>
<p>“Well,” he said. “We have trees and fields alright. That’s why we need you, you know? Lots of ground to cover. You’ll be working the fields and the cows mostly if Mum hasn’t changed her mind, but we also have a cherry orchard and need help picking the cherries at the end of July.” He paused and smiled. “It’s beautiful in spring when all the trees are blooming white.”</p>
<p>The bot’s gaze went far away. “I saw a cherry orchard once, during the war, but all the trees were cut down,” it said quietly. “It made me sad.”</p>
<p>The bot looked it, too, with his head and shoulders hanging, and Tom felt the irrational need to comfort it. “There’s no need for that. Cherry trees are like a phoenix. When their stones rot, they’ll grow again and then there’ll be even more trees than there were before.”</p>
<p>“Really?” the bot asked quietly.</p>
<p>“Life always finds a way,” Tom told it. “So, do you think you’re up for farm work? It’s not exactly what you’re used to.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t like what I was used to,” the bot pointed out. Then it smiled, almost shyly. “But I think I will like working for you.”</p>
<p>Tom didn’t know why those words made his face heat up.</p>
<p>“Good,” he muttered, looking away from the bot and towards the horizon.</p>
<p>His mother was going to be pleased. The Schofield model might not have been what she was looking for but it met her requirements and was in good shape. Its battery alone was probably worth more than Tom had paid, being military standard and all that, so long days of manual labor shouldn’t be a problem. And it seemed to be willing to learn and expand its programming, so that was another plus.</p>
<p>“Where will I sleep?” the bot suddenly asked, pulling Tom from his thoughts.</p>
<p>“Sleep?” Tom asked. “Oh, recharge, you mean. Uhm, I don’t know. I think Mum’s got a port in the storeroom upstairs?”</p>
<p>The bot’s face fell. “Is it dark in there?”</p>
<p>“I … I think so.” Tom glanced at it and remembered the bot’s earlier words. “Why does the dark bother you?”</p>
<p>The bot looked away. “It’s always cold and lonely in the dark.”</p>
<p>Tom stopped. “You can feel the cold?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know that was possible,” Tom whispered.</p>
<p>“It shouldn’t be,” the bot agreed as if it was no big deal.</p>
<p>But it was. Work bots weren’t meant to feel sensations. They weren’t meant to feel at all. And yet here was this military bot who apparently didn’t like the dark because it made him feel <em>cold</em>. No wonder it was seeking out the sunshine earlier.</p>
<p>Tom looked at the thin shirt and trousers the bot was wearing, took in the lack of shoes. “Are you cold right now?”</p>
<p>“A bit,” the bot admitted.</p>
<p>Without thinking about it, Tom shrugged off his jacket. “Here,” he said.</p>
<p>The bot looked at him in bewilderment. “What?”</p>
<p>“Take it,” Tom encouraged it. “I don’t mind.”</p>
<p>Hesitantly, the bot reached for the jacket. “Thank you,” it said softly.</p>
<p>Tom smiled at it. “You’re welcome. I’ll make sure you get some proper clothes once we’re home.” A thought struck him. “Hey, what am I going to call you?”</p>
<p>The bot stopped mid-motion and cocked its head to the side. “I’m a Schofield model,” it said.</p>
<p>Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?” He thought about it for a moment. “How about Scho?”</p>
<p>Some unpleasant emotion flickered across the bot’s face. “The other soldiers used to call me that,” it murmured.</p>
<p>“I take it you didn’t like it?” Tom asked.</p>
<p>The bot shook its head. “No.” Then it pulled down the collar to expose its neck. “This is my designation.”</p>
<p>Tom leaned in closer to read the tiny black letters below the bots left ear. “W1-II. Doesn’t make things any easier, really.”</p>
<p>He was surprised to see the bot shifting its feet almost nervously. “I always liked to think it spelled W-I-L-L.”</p>
<p>“Will,” Tom breathed, trying the name out. He looked at the blue eyes, the sandy blond hair, the handsome nose. “It fits you.”</p>
<p>Will gave him a shy smile. “You think so?”</p>
<p>Tom nodded. “Yeah.”</p><hr/>
<p>Tom had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that not only did his bot apparently <em>feel</em> and defy his military programming but also chose a name for himself.</p>
<p><em>Itself</em>.</p>
<p>Thinking about Will as a thing and not a person became harder with every step he that brought him closer to home and every little thing Tom learned about him along the way. Will didn’t talk much – his sentences were short and always to the point – but after only half an hour Tom already knew that Will liked to read – poems, mostly – and that he enjoyed live sung folk music because, according to him, it sounded more honest than any recording ever could.</p>
<p>He also liked dogs.</p>
<p>“You’ll love Myrtle, then,” Tom told him with a smile. “She’s the best, and she just had puppies.”</p>
<p>Talking to Will was like talking to a human and that more than anything else made it easy to forget that instead of flesh and blood wires were hidden beneath Will’s pale skin. Will talked of memories and feelings, of things he enjoyed and disliked, and by the time the farm appeared on the horizon, Tom couldn’t help but think of him as a newfound friend instead of a tool he’d been sent to buy.</p>
<p>Joe was so going to call him crazy.</p>
<p>Tom couldn’t care less.</p>
<p>“Is that your home?” Will asked, pointing towards the lit windows in the distance.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Tom told him. “See those trees over there? That’s the orchard. The cherries are almost ripe now. We’ll be picking them soon.”</p>
<p>Will’s gaze wandered from left to right when they approached the house, taking in as much as possible. He lingered on the upper windows and his shoulders tensed for a brief moment before he took a deep breath he didn’t need and forced himself to relax – an utterly human reaction if Tom had ever seen one.</p>
<p>“You alright?” he asked.</p>
<p>Will nodded. “Yes.”</p>
<p>Tom led him inside, and the second he opened the door Myrtle came running. She almost barreled him over in her eagerness to greet him and Tom laughed.</p>
<p>“Easy, you silly girl. Come on, say hello to Will. He’ll be staying with us from now on.”</p>
<p>Watching Will interact with Myrtle was fascinating. He held his hand out to her and Myrtle went to sniff it like she would any other person’s hand – except Will wasn’t human and there was nothing there for her to smell. Confused, she tilted her head to the side before she pushed her nose right into the palm of Will’s hand in search of a scent.</p>
<p>She whined when she couldn’t find one.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Will murmured. “I must smell strange to you.”</p>
<p>Myrtle being Myrtle, though, didn’t let that deter her. She rushed out of the hallway and came back seconds later with a ball in her mouth. She placed it at Will’s feet, clearly expecting him to pick it up.</p>
<p>Will looked at Tom helplessly.</p>
<p>“She wants you to throw it,” Tom explained even as a rush of sadness made his chest tighten at the thought that this bot probably knew a hundred different ways to kill someone with his graceful hands but had no idea what to do with a dog that brought him a ball.</p>
<p>Will carefully picked up the ball and threw it down the hall. His eyes lit up when Myrtle immediately bounded after it.</p>
<p>“I think she likes you,” Tom remarked softly.</p>
<p>Will’s smile brightened.</p>
<p>“Mum’s still in the stables with Joe,” Tom said as he took off his shoes while Will threw the ball for Myrtle once more, “so I’m giving you a quick tour of the house, okay?”</p>
<p>He started with the living room which led into the kitchen and the adjacent storage room. Continuing upstairs, Tom pointed out the doors to his mother’s and brother’s rooms and then showed Will his own.</p>
<p>“I like the colors,” Will said, turning in a circle. “They’re calming.” He lightly touched the blossom of one of the lilacs on Tom’s window sill. “Beautiful.”</p>
<p>He looked so at peace that Tom had a hard time picturing him in a war, looking down the barrel of a rifle and aiming to kill someone. Nothing about Will screamed violence. His voice, his touches had been nothing but gentle the whole time – completely different from the other military robots Tom had seen in the media and Joe talked about after he came home from the war. He couldn’t help but wonder what made Will different, what had gone wrong to make him like this, but in the end it didn’t matter. Tom wasn’t a mechanic and he sure as hell was not going to call one to take a look at Will. The last thing he needed was someone informing the military or government about him.</p>
<p>“Where is the storeroom?” Will asked, finally turning away from the lilacs. “The one I’ll be staying in?”</p>
<p>They walked to the end of the hall and Tom felt awful when he opened the door to the tiny room his mother used mostly for storing Christmas decorations and his dad’s old clothes. It was small and cramped, and the lightbulb overhead flickered like the flame of a candle in a gust of wind.</p>
<p>Will took it in with an unreadable expression on his face. “Shall I go recharge now?”</p>
<p>“What?” Tom asked. “No! I mean, not if you don’t have to.” He looked at Will. “Do you?”</p>
<p>Will shook his head. “I have 52 % of power left.”</p>
<p>“Okay, good. That’s good,” Tom breathed in relief. The thought of leaving Will in that room when it clearly made him uncomfortable was more upsetting than he liked to admit. “Let’s get you some new clothes and then go downstairs and wait for Mum and Joe, yeah? They should be in soon. We could start making dinner.” He paused and gave Will a considering look. “Can you cook?”</p><hr/>
<p>It turned out Will couldn’t but was more than willing to learn. He followed Tom’s instructions to a T – most likely due to his military programming, Tom was sure – and even though he didn’t know the names of most of the vegetables Tom asked him to cut he immediately memorized them once Tom told him.</p>
<p>When Tom’s mother and brother came into the house a short while later, they found Tom and Will standing shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen preparing dinner and talking quietly with each other – well, Tom was doing most of the talking but he didn’t mind. Will was a good listener, and he seemed to like his stories.</p>
<p>“See? So that’s how he got part of his ear bitten – oh, hey Mum, Joe! You’re back!” Tom quickly wiped his hands on a towel and went to give his mother a quick hug. “I brought us some help.”</p>
<p>His mother glanced at Will. “I can see that. What kind of model is it? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”</p>
<p>“A Schofield model,” Joe said before Tom could. He eyed Will with a frown. “They were used by the military during the Great War. How the hell did you get one of those, Tom? They’re killing machines.”</p>
<p>Will flinched and lowered his eyes to the floor at Joe’s words.</p>
<p>Tom glared at his brother. “He’s none of that, alright? He’s <em>different</em> and he wants to work the farm, so I brought him home.”</p>
<p>“He?” his mother asked quietly, noticing Tom’s slip-up.</p>
<p>Next to him, Will swallowed nervously – another painfully human reaction that made Tom want to reach out to him.</p>
<p>“I am Will, Ma’am,” Will said, his voice soft and quiet. He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”</p>
<p>Tom’s mother looked surprised and a little taken aback, but after a moment of careful consideration she shook Will’s hand and shook it. When she smiled Tom knew Will had won her over. “Likewise … <em>Will</em>.”</p>
<p>Joe, however, crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Schos are dangerous, Mum,” he warned. “One faulty line of programming and they go ballistic. I’ve seen it happen.”</p>
<p>“He is right,” Will admitted. He wrung his hands and looked at the floor. “I was built to be a weapon and programmed to kill.”</p>
<p>“But you didn’t want to be like that,” Tom said softly.</p>
<p>Will glanced up at him. “No,” he shook his head. “I didn’t.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Tom’s mother said. She reached for Will’s tightly clasped hands and gently eased them apart. “Can you promise me one thing, Will? Can you promise me that you will never harm me and my children?”</p>
<p>Will nodded. “I promise.”</p>
<p>Tom’s mother smiled. “That’s good enough for me.”</p>
<p>“Mum!” Joe protested but one look from their mother silenced him.</p>
<p>“Let’s eat,” she said in a voice that broke no argument. “Will, you’re welcome to stay.”</p>
<p>Tom gave Will’s shoulder a nudge and smiled at him. Tentatively, Will smiled back.</p><hr/>
<p>After dinner was eaten Will offered to wash and dry the dishes. Tom used the opportunity to pull his mother aside.</p>
<p>“Thank you for giving Will a chance, Mum,” he said. “I promise you won’t regret it.”</p>
<p>His mother smiled. “He’s … something else, isn’t he? Quite different from the bots I’ve met.”</p>
<p>Tom chuckled. “You could say that. And speaking of that: I know you wanted to keep him in the storeroom upstairs but it’s cramped and – Mum, he doesn’t like the dark.”</p>
<p>“Did he tell you that?”</p>
<p>Tom nodded. “Yes, on the way home. Couldn’t we, I don’t know, switch the port to my room or something?”</p>
<p>His mother thought about it but to Tom’s disappointment she shook her head. “I don’t know … Joe said he could be dangerous and as much as I’d like to believe he isn’t he hasn’t been around long enough to be sure. But we could move the port downstairs to the kitchen,” his mother suggested with a small smile. “He’d have windows there, and Myrtle and her puppies for company.”</p>
<p>Tom pulled his mother into a hug. “That would be great. Thank you. I’ll go tell him at once!”</p>
<p>His mother shook her head fondly at him as she watched him go.</p><hr/>
<p>“Think you’ll be alright down here?” Tom asked later that evening.</p>
<p>Will glanced at the windows lining the wall. Moonlight shone through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor.</p>
<p>He nodded. “Yes. Thank you for doing this for me.”</p>
<p>Tom’s face softened. “It’s no big deal.”</p>
<p>“It is for me,” Will said. Then, “I’m glad you found me, Tom.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, me too,” Tom said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Goodnight, Will.”</p>
<p>“Goodnight.”</p><hr/>
<p>Will’s first week at the farm was full of new experiences. The fields and cherry trees weren’t quite ready for harvest yet, so he mostly helped out with the livestock. Apart from the dogs and horses that were used in the war handling animals was new to him but he took to it like a fish to the sea. The cows liked his quiet, calm demeanor and patiently stood still for him when Tom’s mother showed him how to milk them – something Tom envied him for because whenever he had to milk their cows they always tried to trample him to death.</p>
<p>The horses didn’t shy away from Will either even though they usually didn’t like strangers. Tom wondered if it had to do with Will’s lack of scent but ultimately it didn’t matter, not when he saw the serene look of peace on Will’s face one morning as he led the horses from the stables to the pasture.</p>
<p>Then there was the stray cat – a feral old thing that Tom usually avoided at all cost because he was at the top of her hitlist. With Will, however, she was a completely different animal. She walked right up to him the first time she met him, tilted her head to the side for a brief moment, and then pressed her whole body against his legs.</p>
<p>Will huffed out a startled laugh. “Hello you! What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Scrappy,” Tom said, still eyeing the cat skeptically. “She usually doesn’t like people.”</p>
<p>Will beamed at him as he gently scratched her behind the ears. “Maybe I’m special.”</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, Tom couldn’t help but think, momentarily forgetting that most people wouldn’t even consider Will to be a person. <em>You absolutely are. </em></p>
<p>As much luck as Will had with the cows, horses and cat, the chickens were another matter. Will was so hesitant and careful when he tried to shoo them out of the coop that Tom swore the chickens clucked at him mockingly. Joe, however, found the whole thing hilarious, so Tom counted it as a win anyway, especially when he overheard him telling Leslie all about it over the phone later that day, barely able to contain his laughter.</p>
<p>When the time for the harvest came, Will proved that Tom made the right decision in choosing him: he climbed the cherry trees without hesitation to pick even the ones right at the top, and he worked the fields tirelessly for weeks to bring in the grain and corn as well as the hay they used to feed the animals during the winter.</p>
<p>Thanks to his help, they did their harvest in record time that year.</p><hr/>
<p>“Not much of a killing machine, is it?” Leslie remarked casually during one of his visits that autumn. He and Joe hat met during the war and kept in touch afterwards, sometimes meeting at the Blake farm, other times at Leslie’s flat in the city. Right now they were sitting outside the farmhouse, enjoying one of the last warm evenings of the year.</p>
<p>“You mean the bot or the cat?” Joe asked unironically.</p>
<p>Tom gave him a shove. “Don’t call him that. His name’s <em>Will</em>.”</p>
<p>Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”</p>
<p>Leslie snorted. “I see you’re still not happy about having a Scho around.”</p>
<p>“After what I’ve seen them do? No, not really,” Joe said.</p>
<p>Leslie, however, observed Will and the cat with quiet contemplation. “I think he’s alright. Definitely different from the Schos I’ve seen.”</p>
<p>“Maybe it’s just biding its time,” Joe muttered.</p>
<p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Joe!” Tom exclaimed. Both Will and the cat looked up briefly and he forced himself to lower his voice. “He’s been here for three months now and you still call him <em>it</em>. Would you <em>please</em> give it a rest?”</p>
<p>Joe pretended to think about it. “Nope,” he decided.</p>
<p>“You’re a<em> jerk</em>,” Tom growled before he stood up and joined Will and the cat at the orchard wall without another word.</p>
<p>Joe and Leslie watched him sit down right next to Will, so close their shoulders were touching, and lean in close to talk to him.</p>
<p>“You do this on purpose, don’t you?” Leslie asked with a knowing look. “You <em>do</em> like Will.”</p>
<p>Joe grinned. “It’s just too much fun seeing him getting all riled up over his bot.”</p>
<p>“You’re a terrible person,” Leslie told him.</p>
<p>“You must be rubbing off on me,” Joe smirked.</p><hr/>
<p>With winter came the first heavy snowfalls of the season. Tom woke up one morning to find the world outside blanketed in white, and an idea formed in his head.</p>
<p>“Let’s go build a snowman!” he said the moment he stepped into the kitchen.</p>
<p>Will gave him a perplexed look. “A what?”</p>
<p>Joe groaned into his coffee. “Run while you still can,” he muttered.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Tom told him. He turned to Will. “Come on, I’ll show you. You’ll love it, I promise!”</p>
<p>He grabbed Will’s hand and pulled him out of the room.</p>
<p>Joe watched them go with a pitying look. “Too late,” he said.</p>
<p>His mother laughed.</p><hr/>
<p>Outside, Will stood bundled up in heavy winter clothing and watched as Tom started forming a small ball out of snow with his hands.</p>
<p>“That’s a snowball,” he declared proudly, holding his creation up so Will could see it. “Now we roll it around in the snow until it gets <em>huge</em>!”</p>
<p>Will didn’t pretend to understand the purpose of all of this but Tom seemed to be having fun and that was enough reason for him to start mimicking Tom’s movements. Together, they ran around the yard, adding more and more snow to their snowballs, until Tom declared they were big enough.</p>
<p>“Now put yours on top of mine while I make a third one,” he instructed. His cheeks were red with cold and excitement and Will had a hard time looking away from him. In moments like this, when Tom seemed to shine almost brighter than the sun, he wanted nothing more than to sit down and capture what he saw in a poem.</p>
<p>He sometimes wondered what that meant.</p>
<p>When Tom was done with the third ball, he gathered some sticks and stones. “Now we give him a face and some arms.”</p>
<p>Will watched in fascination as their three balls of snow turned into a person in front of his eyes. Had his creators felt like that when they assembled him? Had they looked at him as well and been surprised by how human he looked despite the fact that he wasn’t made of flesh and blood?</p>
<p><em>Probably not</em>, he thought as Tom placed a carrot in the middle of the smiling face. He was just one of many, built in a factory. No one put care and love into his assembly, not the way Tom was doing with his snowman. Will might not have a heart but if he did, he knew it would be aching with gratefulness for Tom’s presence in his life.</p>
<p>“What do you think?” Tom asked him, taking a step back and looking at their work.</p>
<p>On an impulse, Will pulled off his scarf and wrapped it around the snowman’s neck. “Now he won’t get cold.”</p>
<p>Tom’s face softened.</p><hr/>
<p>On Christmas morning, Will surprised them all with a batch of freshly baked cookies at breakfast. Tom, only half-awake but lured down to the kitchen by the enticing smell, declared with his mouth full, “God, I could kiss you right now.”</p>
<p>Joe almost spat out his coffee.</p>
<p>After breakfast, they opened their presents. Tom thought he’d be the only one to get Will something but he was wrong. Both his mum and brother gave him a present, too – a small leatherbound collection of poems in Joe’s case, and a collar and tag for Scrappy from his mother.</p>
<p>Will clearly had not expected to get any presents at all, and when Tom handed him a portable charging station and told him about the second bed they were adding to his room after Christmas so Will could actually <em>sleep</em>, Will was rendered speechless.</p>
<p>“You’ve all been so kind to me,” he said once he managed to regain his composure. “I never thought I could be happy but here? With you? I think I am.”</p>
<p>To their surprise, he then handed each of them a carefully wrapped present. “Leslie helped me,” he explained, sounding a little self-conscious. “I … I hope you’ll like them.”</p>
<p>Hidden beneath the wrapping paper were picture frames, each holding a different picture.</p>
<p>Tom looked at his, traced the smiles on both his and Will’s faces as they watched Myrtle play with her puppies in the orchard, and drew Will into a hug.</p>
<p>“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered into Will’s ear.</p>
<p>Will simply nodded into his shoulder and held him tighter.</p><hr/>
<p>Spring followed winter, and when the first cherry blossoms started to bloom Tom plucked the prettiest one for Will. He found him in the middle of one of their fields, tilling, and gave it to him with a smile.</p>
<p>“You can put it between the pages of your book,” he said. “That way you’ll always have a reminder of spring with you.”</p>
<p>This was the first time anyone had ever given Will a flower. He held it carefully in his hands, knowing he would treasure the delicate blossom even more because it came from Tom. While Tom continued on his walk with Myrtle he went back to the house and straight to the living room. Joe and Leslie were there, and they looked surprised when Will walked in to grab his book.</p>
<p>“Hey, what have you got there?” Joe asked curiously.</p>
<p>Will held up the cherry blossom, careful not to squish it. “Tom said I should put it in my book. He … he gave it to me.”</p>
<p>Slowly, a grin spread over Leslie’s face. “Oh, did he? My, my …”</p>
<p>Will paused. “Does it … mean something?”</p>
<p>Impossibly, Leslie’s grin widened. “I don’t know. Does it?”</p>
<p>Helplessly, Will looked to Joe. Joe rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Usually, when someone gives you flowers, they either want to apologize for something or show you how much they … like you.”</p>
<p>“I know Tom likes me,” Will said matter-of-factly. “I like him, too.”</p>
<p>Joe grimaced while Leslie had a hard time trying not to laugh. “Yeah, that’s not what I meant.”</p>
<p>“Love,” Leslie supplied helpfully. “That’s what he’s talking about. You give flowers to someone you <em>love</em>. Granted, it’s usually red roses but seeing how much Tom loves his cherry trees I can’t say I’m surprised he went with one of those,” he said, nodding towards the delicate blossom now lying on one of the pages of Will’s book.</p>
<p>Will followed his gaze as he thought about the meaning behind Leslie’s words. “Are you saying that Tom might … love me?” he asked hesitantly.</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” Leslie said. “The question is, would you like him to?”</p>
<p>“I … I don’t know,” Will said. “That’s not part of my programming.”</p>
<p>“Neither is playing with dogs and cats, feeling the heat and cold and giving people presents. Yet you do all that,” Leslie pointed out. Then he threw an arm around Will’s shoulders and smirked. “You know what you could do to find out? Give Tom a kiss. A <em>butterfly kiss</em>.”</p>
<p>“Leslie …” Joe warned but Leslie waved his hand at him.</p>
<p>“Shush,” he said and turned back to Will. “It’s really easy. You catch a butterfly in your hands and hold it up to the person who gave you flowers. If they love you, they’ll kiss the butterfly. If they don’t, well –“</p>
<p>Joe shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“Shut up, it’s <em>romantic</em>,” Leslie insisted. He looked at Will. “So, what are you waiting for? Go find a butterfly and get your man!”</p>
<p>After a moment’s hesitation, Will’s unsure expression melted into one of determination. He nodded and gently closed his book to preserve the cherry blossom. “I think I will,” he said.</p>
<p>The second Will left the room, Joe turned to Leslie. “A <em>literal</em> butterfly kiss? Really, Leslie?” he asked. “That’s your big plan of getting them together?”</p>
<p>“Yep,” Leslie grinned. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Joe snorted. “You’re horrible.”</p>
<p>“You love me anyway,” Leslie stated smugly.</p>
<p>Joe shook his head in resigned acceptance. “God help me, I do.”</p><hr/>
<p>Outside, Will immediately went searching for the perfect butterfly because Tom deserved nothing less. His steps took him to the orchard and he looked around. Plain white wings wouldn’t do. Yellow and brown weren’t special enough. Orange wings with dark dots were also too common.</p>
<p>Then his eyes landed on a different butterfly. It was currently sitting on top of one of the cherry blossoms and its wings were mostly green – just like the grass of the meadows Tom loved to go to with Myrtle. The wings were lined with blue that looked just like the color of Tom’s eyes and pink spots that reminded Will of Japanese cherry blossoms adorned them.</p>
<p><em>Perfect</em>.</p>
<p>He caught the butterfly as carefully as he could between his hands. Its wings fluttered restlessly against his palms for a few seconds before it calmed down. Will looked at it, took in the delicate pattern of colors, the fragility of the wings, and smiled. He hoped Tom would love it, and even though he never thought about it before Leslie planted the idea in his head, he realized that he hoped Tom loved him, too.</p><hr/>
<p>When Tom came back from his walk with Myrtle, he was surprised to find Will sitting beneath a tree in the orchard instead of tilling the fields. He was holding something in his hands and obviously waiting for him, so Tom sent Myrtle running and joined him on the grass.</p>
<p>“What have you got there, Will?”</p>
<p>Oddly hesitant, Will held out his hands to him. “For you.”</p>
<p>He opened his fingers a little and Tom could see a gorgeous butterfly resting between Will’s palms – one of the rarer ones, endangered if he remembered correctly.</p>
<p>He frowned at Will. “Uhm, thanks?”</p>
<p>Will kept holding out the butterfly to him with an expectant look on his face. Tom glanced between the animal and Will, and when Will didn’t say anything else he gently suggested, “Why don’t we let it go, hm? It belongs in the wild.”</p>
<p>Will’s face fell. “You don’t want to kiss it?”</p>
<p>“I –“ Tom sputtered. “What?”</p>
<p>Will slowly lowered his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He stared down at the butterfly in his hands, wondering if this was how humans felt when they were about to cry. “I just thought – Leslie said–“ He shook his head. “Forget it.”</p>
<p>“No,” Tom said softly. “What did Leslie say?”</p>
<p>So Will told him. The longer he talked, the less confusing Tom’s expression became, and by the end of his tale his brows were furrowed in something Will could only describe as anger.</p>
<p>“I’m going to kill Leslie,” Tom muttered.</p>
<p>Helplessly, Will looked down at the butterfly in his hands. “I don’t understand,” he admitted.</p>
<p>Tom sighed. “I know.” He placed his hand on Will’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “It’s not your fault, okay? You couldn’t know Leslie was talking shit.” Impossibly gently, Tom’s hand trailed down Will’s arm to his hand. “Let’s let this little guy go, okay? Then I promise I’ll explain.”</p>
<p>Will nodded and together, they watched the butterfly take off and get lost among the cherry blossoms in the orchard. Will was sad to see him go. He was even sadder when Tom’s touch vanished with it.</p>
<p>“Look,” Tom began, gazing out at the trees. “I’m sorry Leslie lied to you. That wasn’t right of him. While the thing about the flowers is true it really wasn’t my intention to make a grand romantic gesture when I gave you the cherry blossom. I just … I don’t know, I just thought you might like to have one.”</p>
<p>“I do,” Will said softly.</p>
<p>Tom gave him a brief, nervous smile. “Would you like to have a butterfly kiss, too? A real one?”</p>
<p>Will frowned. “But the butterfly –“</p>
<p>“Is not needed for that,” Tom whispered. He studied Will’s face for a moment. “May I?”</p>
<p>Will nodded mutely, and slowly so as not to spook him Tom leant in closer until their faces were almost touching. Hesitating for only a second, he gently brushed his eyelashes against Will’s cheek.</p>
<p>Will’s mouth opened in a silent <em>oh</em>. His eyes fell shut and his hands reached for Tom’s jacket, desperate to hold onto something as he processed this new sensation. When Tom pulled back, Will raised one of his hands slowly to his cheek.</p>
<p>“Do that again,” he whispered.</p>
<p>Pleasant warmth pooled in Tom’s belly. “I can do even better,” he murmured and pressed his lips against Will’s.</p>
<p>Will melted against him. His lips were soft and smooth beneath Tom’s, not exactly human but not so different either. Tom buried his hands in Will’s hair, pulling him even closer, and smiled against his lips as his heart burst into a million stars. He hadn’t known how much he wanted this, but now that he got a taste of it he knew he never wanted to let Will go again.</p>
<p>He felt like he could climb the highest mountains and cross the Seven Seas when he broke the kiss and saw the look of utter bliss on Will’s face. Will blinked at him, slowly, sluggishly, and Tom’s heart filled to the brim with affection.</p>
<p>“Did I break you?”</p>
<p>Will gave him a befuddled smile. “Yes, I think you did.” He leaned in and brushed his eyelashes against Tom’s skin. “Kiss me again.”</p>
<p>Tom happily complied.</p><hr/>
<p>Later that day, when the sun had long since set and they finally made their way back inside, Leslie patted both their backs with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’re welcome.”</p>
<p>Firmly holding Will’s hand, Tom stuck out his tongue at him.</p>
<p>Will smiled.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to say hi to us on tumblr, you can find us here:<br/><a href="https://thatthreetoedsloth.tumblr.com/">thatthreetoedsloth</a><br/><a href="https://ailendolin.tumblr.com/">Ailendolin</a><br/>The artwork is also archived on tumblr <a href="https://thatthreetoedsloth.tumblr.com/post/632863006457577472/butterfly-kisses-for-1917-kisstober-prompt-day-24">here</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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